A tiny piece of paper

I’m watching my 10 month old play independently while my 2.5 year old naps (a rare thing on the weekend.)  It is one of my favorite things to do–to sit back and watch her engage the world.  I remember reading about the importance of independent play when Charlie was a baby.  It was tempting to get all up in his face and be the one he was playing with.  But sitting back–watching my kids play on their own–it has taught me so much about their personalities.  Just now, Lucy Rae was playing with a small piece of red paper–a remnant from a craft her brother and I were working on yesterday.  She kept hiding the small piece of red paper in the crevice between the cushions and the arm of the couch.  She’s in that fun–but frustrating at meal-times–stage of dropping things to see what will happen.  Amazed by gravity.  And she loves peek-a-boo, and the idea of things going away, then coming back.  But this hiding of a small piece of red paper in the crevice of the couch cushions–this feels different.  There’s something about the deliberateness of her actions–a thoughtfulness and intentionality of sorts–it tells me to pay attention.  I can see this moment, this tiny action I might have missed, as being an early hallmark clue to just who Lucy Rae might be as a person.  And so I file it away in my mind, tucking it into a tiny space, deliberately and intentionally, for safe-keeping.

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